Whiskey at Midnight, page 30
The old Emma would stand there, pulled in two different directions all at once, not wanting to hurt either person. An infinite loop of her going back and forth, apologizing to one and then going back to the other.
Cam bites her lip.
Emma waves, once, at Cam and then strides over to Wren and hugs her. Kissing is not an option, not right this second. That would be too dramatic, too much like trying to send a message. And maybe Emma is thinking about it more than she should, but she’s never been able to switch her mind off in moments like these and kisses with Wren are supposed to be just for them now. It can’t work any other way.
Wren’s body is rigid against Emma’s for a moment before she relaxes and lets out a breath. Of course, this was a test to see if Emma is actually cured. She’s passed. At the same time, Wren’s days of manipulation are supposedly over. She wouldn’t have called Cam and set this up. It just happened.
“Go on,” Wren says, smiling a little. “Go say hi and I’ll get you a drink.”
Steve’s already standing by Cam. He introduces her to Chase, asks how work is going. He sees Emma approaching and touches Cam’s arm. He motions for Chase to follow him back to the bar.
“Congratulations,” Cam says. “I thought you might end up here. Thought I’d take a chance. You’re glowing.”
Emma looks down for a moment, notes that the beaded bracelet Cam once wore is gone. “Am I? I’m probably just blushing. My parents were a little much at dinner.”
Cam knows what she means. She’s heard all of the embarrassing stories. Emma’s mother telling Emma’s grade school teacher about Emma’s constant urge to paint unicorns and how she’s worried it might be some kind of disorder. Or Emma’s father’s attempts to hint about the birds and the bees. It’s embarrassing enough for a father to tell his daughter about it, even more embarrassing when he decides to do it when she’s having a sleepover.
Cam laughs. “I kind of wish I had been there to witness it first hand.”
The stilted conversation makes Emma grind her teeth. They may never go back to normal, not with Cam living so far away now, but it can’t be like this. It can’t be like high school classmates at a reunion, trying to talk about that one semester they sat at the same lunch table.
Cam mentions Mark and the way her eyes glisten tells that they’re back together more than her words do. Relief floods through Emma.
“I’m happy for you,” Emma says. “Being with Mark. He really liked you when I saw him. I’m with Wren again.” She gestures over her shoulder where Wren is probably still standing, discreetly watching. Emma smiles thinking about it. Wren wouldn’t watch to be nosy or because she’s jealous. Wren always seems to know when there’s something to worry about and that worry evaporated the moment Emma put her arms around her at the bar. No, Wren would only be watching to make sure Emma is okay.
“I thought that might happen,” says Cam.
“What? But you seemed so sure she wasn’t good for me.”
Cam reaches back and rubs at a spot on the back of her neck. She looks down. “Be that as it may, one look says she’d jump through hoops for you. It’s a strange pairing, but somehow it looks like it works. And I would have said anything at that moment to seem like the best option for you.”
Butterflies flutter in Emma’s stomach. Cam has no idea how much Wren would do for Emma, hasn’t been there when it’s just her and Wren, but it’s still nice to hear.
“Well, I better get to my drink before Steve notices I don’t have one yet,” Emma says. “Are you going to stay awhile?”
“For a little while.”
Emma has done something right finally. She’s graduated like a good little girl, cast aside all the little insecurities that have plagued her. She may be something of a loner, having only a few friends, but that is something she doesn’t worry about, surrounded as she is by smiling faces at the bar.
Reese makes a few mystery shots throughout the night. Her eyes are intense as Emma knocks them back. She laughs if Emma grimaces, looks proud if Emma smiles and nods. “That one is a keeper,” Emma says after taking one of them.
It’s a DJ night. Emma never recognizes the songs anymore. They blend together and surround her. She has to yell to communicate inside the bar. Steve pulls her to an open area to dance a few times. He doesn’t make any comments about her and Wren, doesn’t seem worried about it anymore.
As they dance, Chase watches them from the bar. She looks happy and carefree. So different from Victoria, Emma thinks.
Emma watches as Cam and Wren walk outside, presumably so Wren can smoke. Strange, but not unsettling.
Emma closes her eyes, feels Steve’s arms tighten around her. It’s a new song or an extremely long one.
“I had this table recently,” he says. “Group of four celebrating one of them giving up vegetarianism. I joked that maybe a hamburger wasn’t the best place to start and I was right. The guy eats his burger and then runs from the table to the bathroom. Lost all of his lunch and probably won’t want more meat anytime soon.”
It’s exactly the kind of story Steve would love to tell. It still amuses him and he laughs, but there’s also some sympathy in his voice.
“Whatever happened to Victoria?” Emma asks when Steve’s laughter finally dies away. Her eyes are open now and Steve pauses to think for a moment.
“Just didn’t work, I guess. She was fun, but the type to start a bar brawl and then want to run off and get married. Don’t know what she’s doing now. She left the restaurant for greener pastures.”
Or because she was having to watch Steve flirt with Chase. Emma shrugs. None of it really matters, especially not tonight.
“Since we’re on that kind of topic,” Steve says. “You’re not going to fuck off again, right? You’re going to do it all the right way?” His breath smells of beer. His eyes have become glassy, his smile lazy.
In the moment, Emma feels a rush of love for Steve. How he wants everyone to get along at the end of the day. She nods. “We’re both trying to get it right.”
His arms tighten again and he lifts her up into the air. A small shriek erupts from her mouth before it turns to laughter. He spins her once and sets her down again. “That a girl,” he says. “Let’s get you another drink.”
Wren is back by then. She leans against the bar and watches Emma and Steve approach. Cam is talking to Chase. Cam’s arms gesture frantically and Chase nods sagely. For once, Emma can’t automatically guess what Cam might be talking about. Without Cam around all the time, she has no idea what Cam’s cause of the week is.
“Shot?” Wren asks, holding one up for Emma to take.
It’s a mystery shot and Emma knows not to ask what’s in it. She would only get a smirk from Reese if she asked. If Wren knows what it is, she won’t say either. It’s another good one. A little fruity. She sets the glass down on the bar. Wren casually puts her arm around Emma so that it rests on the small of her back, leans forward and kisses her.
They go out to smoke not long after. Steve is busy keeping Chase and Cam entertained. Wren and Emma go into the alley. Again, Emma admits to herself she’s becoming a full blown smoker. It’s the perfect time to ask what Wren and Cam were talking about outside while Emma was dancing with Steve. Emma looks down for a moment and even with the small amount of light in the alley, she can see that Wren is wearing the bracelet Emma got her for Christmas.
Wren looks at Emma like she knows Emma is thinking about saying something and she’s just waiting patiently for Emma to say it. The same look Emma has been given for months now. There are so many things Emma could say or ask. She could ask what happened earlier, tell Wren about the awkward dinner with her parents. The parent bit isn’t at the top of the list in her head. She’s rarely spoken of her parents to Wren. In the beginning, Wren was a distraction and not much more. The dinner would not be a good way to broach that subject.
Wren picks at a piece of something on Emma’s shoulder and then smooths her hand over the spot. She’s so cool about everything.
Emma looks away. There are few cars on the roads now. A minute can pass before a car can be heard driving by on the other side of the building.
All of the drinks have caused a sense of relaxation and invincibility in Emma. She’s no daredevil. There’s no worry that she might go wandering out in the street or try to climb up the side of the building. She finds that she doesn’t care about much of anything in a pleasant sort of way. Maybe the alley has brought on the mood. It has always been a calming spot, a safe spot.
Emma takes another drag off her cigarette and then tosses it onto the ground. “I want to do something a little crazy,” she says and steps closer to Wren. She’s right in front of Wren now, with Wren’s back against the building. Wren smells of cinnamon and alcohol and cigarettes. Emma places her hands on Wren’s hips, gives them a little squeeze.
“How crazy can it be if we’ve already done it before?” Wren asks, slightly bored. She tosses her own cigarette on the ground and Emma makes a mental note to remember to pick them up before going back inside.
Emma kisses along Wren’s neck, smirks at the little noises that Wren makes. This is what will make the night memorable: a walk down memory lane, a fuck.
Emma’s thigh moves Wren’s legs apart. “You have to be quiet,” Emma reminds her.
“We’ve done this,” Wren says, but she bites her lip anyway, trying to keep the sounds inside of her.
Emma snakes her hands under Wren’s shirt, another of the many tanktops that Wren owns. Wren wears a skirt as well, which will come in handy. Maybe Wren didn’t exactly plan for Emma to jump her in the alley, but she’s not wearing a bra and that makes everything easier for Emma. She palms Wren’s tits, pulls at the nipples until Wren hisses.
Wren has soaked her panties and it’s one of the sexiest things Emma has ever felt. She bites one of Wren’s earlobes and shoves Wren’s panties aside, starts to fuck Wren with her fingers. The need between them is no longer desperate in a dirty way, full of shame and excitement. Wren bites Emma’s shoulder. It’s just blissful now and Emma doesn’t feel any disappointment.
Wren’s body shudders as she orgasms. Emma has to hold her steady. When Wren finally looks up again, taking her head off of Emma’s shoulder, Emma sees that Wren has bitten her lip so hard that there’s a tiny drop of blood there. Without thinking, Emma kisses it away.
They hold hands in the bar, letting go only when Steve wants to dance or they’re taking a shot. Wren’s face has a glow about it that is unmistakable. Steve winks at Wren. She smacks him on the arm. Chase doesn’t say anything at all about it.
Cam slips closer to Emma and hugs her. “I have to head out,” she says. “I have a long drive ahead of me.” She’s been sipping on water for two hours and only had one drink before that. “I’m sorry,” she whispers into Emma’s ear. She doesn’t say what she’s sorry about. Maybe it’s for everything. “We need to keep in touch.”
Cam turns and hugs Wren. Their embrace is short and awkward, like neither of them have ever hugged another person before.
No such awkwardness is present when Cam hugs Steve. He lifts her up, just an inch or two, and squeezes her. Cam looks indignant at first but then laughs.
And then Cam is gone all over again.
Chase buys Emma her last shot. She smirks as she hands it to Emma, which puts Emma on her guard. The look says the shot will be gross. A way to fuck with Emma a little bit. But the shot tastes like some kind of citrus fruit that Emma can’t place and it’s not gross at all.
“Congrats again,” Chase says. “It’s about time to go home though.”
Steve nods beside her and has an arm wrapped around her shoulders. Chase doesn’t hug Emma or Wren, just waves and begins to walk out after paying her tab.
She ends up waiting for Steve by the exit. Steve can’t say a simple goodnight. He has to hug both Wren and Emma. He high-fives Reese and waves at Taylor. He has a cigarette stuck behind his ear and a goofy grin on his face. “It’s been a successful night,” he says. “See you ladies later.”
During Steve’s long goodbye, Wren has apparently paid Emma’s tab. Emma thinks Wren has done this before, but she scowls at her all the same before a giggle escapes.
“Your chariot awaits,” Wren says. Her tone is playful.
Emma follows Wren outside where a yellow taxi is waiting out front. Emma slides in first and Wren gives the driver Emma’s address.
“You know, we’ll have to go to your place again at some point,” Emma says.
“I know. I just don’t know if Trudy is ready for two lady lovers in the apartment at one time.”
“She can get over that,” says Emma. She searches for Wren’s hand across the seat and grabs onto it when she finds it.
“It’s not that,” Wren says, but she doesn’t elaborate.
The long day hits Emma all at once when she unlocks her apartment door and stumbles inside. Her feet hurt from the heels she’d worn earlier. Standing all night at the bar probably wasn’t the best decision. Emma yawns into the darkness until she finds a light switch and flips it on. Her father has accidentally left his book on the coffee table. She’ll have to mail it to him.
In her bedroom, Emma starts to tell Wren that she’ll find Wren something to sleep in, but Wren undresses right next to the bed and gets under the covers nude. Emma shrugs and pulls her own clothes off and lets them fall to the floor. She curls up next to Wren on the bed and wraps an arm around Wren’s midsection. Wren’s breathing is steady and begins to lull Emma to sleep.
“Did you have a good day?” Wren whispers.
“Yes.”
Emma’s eyes close and she focuses on the soft skin beneath her arm and face. Wren is small, but cuddled up like this she feels strong, like she could protect Emma from anything. Emma feels Wren’s hand coming to rest on Emma’s arm.
“I love you,” Emma whispers a few minutes later. Wren hasn’t moved since her hand was placed on Emma’s arm and Emma is unsure if she’s even awake. There is a sharp intake of breath from the body half beneath her. “You don’t have to say it back,” she says hastily.
“Okay,” Wren says after a moment.
Chapter Twelve
Emma doesn’t mention Cam. Not during their evenings together or on their lazy mornings. Now that the school year is over, they have more time to spend together. Going to the park becomes one of Emma’s favorite activities, partially because it’s free. Wren doesn’t mind. She even brings her camera sometimes.
The trees are always nice to get pictures of, right when the lighting is perfect, Wren tells Emma. Sometimes she takes pictures of Emma. Emma’s blonde hair on a blanket, Emma trying to feed bread crumbs to birds, Emma laying on the ground with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.
Wren doesn’t always show Emma these pictures, but when she does Emma blushes and looks kind of proud. As she should, Wren thinks. Emma has always been cute, beautiful even, but now her face has a certain glow that doesn’t go away. Her eyes have changed, too. They’re more open, brighter, more aware of her surroundings. It is as if Emma has spent most of her life in a coma and has finally awoken.
They’re spending another afternoon at the park when Wren’s neck hair stands on end. She looks around. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. A few joggers keeping to the path, birds picking at something close to the edge of the pond. And Emma sitting on the grass next to Wren with her legs in front of her, attempting to get a little sun. Emma is looking at Wren, her bottom lip between her teeth. A look of concentration is on her face.
Oh, Wren thinks, that’s where it’s coming from.
Wren cooly lights a cigarette and raises an eyebrow, waiting. Emma smiles and sticks her tongue out a little. Whatever Emma is plotting, she apparently has no intention of telling Wren.
“Suit yourself,” Wren says and blows a smoke ring.
A group of friends take over a nearby clearing and begin throwing a frisbee. One guy dives over and over for the thing, getting grass stains all over his clothes.
“I could see Steve playing like that,” says Emma.
Wren smirks, ashes on the ground. “As long as there’s alcohol involved.”
Wren doesn’t frown at the mention of Steve, doesn’t let on that the name makes her pause. She only sees him at work now. He walks by the bar at work as much as possible, telling Chase stupid little jokes. He takes smoke breaks with Wren, sometimes even sits out front after their shift for one or two cigarettes. But in the last three weeks, he hasn’t gone to the bar, hasn’t told Wren where he’s been going instead. The honeymoon period. He’ll be back eventually.
“We should go on a road trip,” Wren says. A fly lands on her cheek for a moment before flying away.
“What?” Emma says immediately.
“This summer. Take a few days and go wherever.”
Emma shakes her head and bites her lip. “I can’t afford that. I need to get saving again.”
“We’ll see,” Wren says.
Emma invites Wren over to her apartment on one of those rare days when they’re both off of work. It’s a Sunday and Wren leaves her own apartment while Trudy is gone, repenting for her sins at church. Wren brings a bag full of clothes and other necessities. Emma hasn’t said anything about spending the night, but Wren wants to be prepared.
Trudy has gotten everything out of Wren that she can. How Wren is back with Emma, how it was Emma’s bra that one time, promising that it really was another girl that bruised Wren’s body. Trudy now looks at Wren with a certain amount of distrust, unsure of what Wren might pull next to upend their lives. There’s only so much of Trudy that Wren can take before she snaps.
Emma greets Wren outside of her apartment and opens up the door to let Wren inside. Her demeanor is nervous. “Nice tanktop,” she says. It’s one that Wren has worn a thousand times around Emma. Then, in a formal tone, Emma says, “I’m so excited that you’ve come over.”
The door to Emma’s bedroom is closed. The living room has a candle lit on the coffee table. Two coffee cups sit on either side of the candle along with a box of donuts. Too early to start drinking, Wren assumes.
